


Keep Moving Forward

by orphan_account



Series: After Nur [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cal Kestis Needs a Hug, Canon Compliant, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:46:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Cal is having a normal routine- waking up, getting out of bed, going to the cockpit to say hi to Greez; until he's not.Or, Cal is having a nightmare, and he doesn't know how to wake up.
Relationships: BD-1 & Cal Kestis, Cal Kestis & Trilla Suduri | Second Sister, Cere Junda & Cal Kestis, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: After Nur [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819027
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65





	Keep Moving Forward

All he sees is darkness, until he bothers to open his eyes.

It takes a minute for him to adjust to the lights of his bedroom aboard the _Mantis_. A few more minutes for him to gather up his strength to get out of bed. Then, he remembers why he can’t just get up immediately. That fight on Nur, on the _Fortress Inquisitorius,_ when he...

Cal realizes he’s thirsty. Maybe water would help him recover from being stabbed in the chest with his lightsaber, but what did he know? He wasn’t a doctor.

 _Ahaha, unless?_ He thinks mildly as he teeters his way to the doorway. Looking out across the main space, it’s quiet, only the hum of the engines to be heard. It’s peaceful. He closes his eyes and breathes in, then opens them once more to continue his quest.

Cal makes his way to the sink, filling up his water bottle. He takes a moment to drink, cool liquid washing its way down his throat, and he sets the bottle down, before turning to look at the empty seats. No one was awake, it seemed, even though it felt like it was day. Maybe he just woke up in the middle of the night (again, he admits). He makes his way to the cockpit anyway, observing the way they drifted through space. Cere mentioned they were heading somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where, and he didn’t feel like wracking his brain for the answer.

Greez wasn’t in the pilot’s seat. He stepped up to the chair for a moment, looking down at it, before turning to face the windows once more. It was beautiful, really. He didn’t get much of a chance to look out and savor it, what with high stakes battles whenever they entered a planet’s atmosphere and all.

Then, he checks the time. It _was_ day. Where was everyone? Cal turns, increasing worry growing in the pit of his stomach. Then, it occurs to him. Where was BD-1? Did he even _think_ to look for him?

Cal makes his way back to his bunk, and he doesn’t see the little droid where he usually sits when he’s powered down. Worry turns to dread as he goes to check Cere’s, then Greez’s, then Merrin’s beds- they aren’t there either. No one was on the ship. No one but him.

He can’t hide his fear anymore; he was alone, and he didn’t know what happened to cause it. As he exits Merrin’s room, it suddenly feels colder- or is that just him? He doesn’t care enough to check. As he stumbles back to the cockpit, he hears a lightsaber ignite behind him.

Cal’s adrenaline spikes as he whirls around, the walls washed in the cool red that was emanating off a crimson lightsaber, held by- held by Trilla. Her face, her torso, is riddled with the scars of Vader’s lightsaber from when she was struck down. He can’t keep his mouth from falling open in shock. She can’t be here. She’s dead. How is she-

“Cal Kestis,” she says, a smile growing on her face, her eyes wild. She paces in front of him like a tiger. She walks like she knows she’s already won. Like she’s here to collect a prize. _Which doesn’t make any SENSE,_ he thinks to himself, _because she’s DEAD, and the holocron got destroyed, why is she here, how is she here, how-_

“How are you alive?” he says. “You should have died.” He ignites his own saber, the cool cyan comforting. He gets into his traditional stance, the one he used when he first met Trilla, when he continued to encounter her across the galaxy. If she recognizes it, she doesn’t say anything, just laughs coldly. Force, he hates it when evil people laugh.

“And yet I’m here,” she says coolly, her facial emotions carefully constructed. Only her eyes betray her. Just as angry as the last time they met, but filled with more pain and fear and maybe regret. “I bet you thought you ‘fixed’ me? In my final moments, just before I was killed?” Her dialect lilting, she steps forward, moving her saber to trace a circle around her. Lowering her voice, she says, “You failed.”

“If you’re dead, then how- _why_ are you here? Just to torment me past the grave?” He grips his saber tighter. He won’t let her get through to him, but he knows how exposed he is. Unlike Zeffo, she can kill him at any time. And that doesn’t ease his mind.

She steps closer, so close that he raises his lightsaber higher. Held to his chest, defending his wound. Trilla regards this new stance, blinking slowly as her smile grows wider. “I am everything you want to forget. And I’ll never leave you, not til you suffer the same pain.... as I have.” Her smile goes from sinister to sweet, which does not help Cal’s mood in the slightest. Her expression coupled with her words only helps to increase his fear- _which is exactly what she wants,_ he thinks, frustrated.

“What did you do to them?” he says sharply, trying to take hold of the situation. Trilla, on the other hand, seemed to want to dance around the subject completely. Either she’s buying time, or she’s being an asshole, and he wouldn’t put it past her for either.

“I didn’t do anything. It was all you.” She looks over his shoulder, to the cockpit. “Oh! There they are now!” she says, faux-cheerfully.

Cal spins, looking at the cockpit. He doesn’t see them, they aren’t in their chair-

Oh.

It’s because they aren’t in the cockpit.

He dashes to the windows, staring out into space. He sees the floating bodies of Cere, Greez, Merrin, with BD-1 looking to be ripped apart, all of their eyes glazed over, their features limp.

No. No. This couldn’t be happening.

Cal tears his eyes away, looking back at Trilla, but she’s transformed. Her mask is on, she no longer has the lightsaber scar running through her. She’s the Second Sister once more.

He gapes, then turns back around to the windows, only to find that- there’s no stars anymore, he’s staring at a cliff, and the sky is dark and dreary. He’s on Bracca? How is he back here?

Rain pounds against the ground, the landscape bleak. He turns back around, finding that he’s wearing his standard scrapper poncho, and not only is the Second Sister there, but the Ninth Sister, and purge troopers, their black ships sleek against the broken hulls of the ground scrap. Trilla is pacing, and Cal can hear the smile in her voice as she speaks. He’s not back here, he’s dreaming, this is a _dream-_

As he finds himself walking up to the Second Sister, he is filled with terror. He’s not controlling his legs, he’s- he’s- he’s not even human, he realizes as he looks at his hands, big and wrinkled. He looks back at the line of scrappers and finds a boy with red hair standing there, a concealed lightsaber at his hip.

He’s not Cal.

He’s Prauf.

Cal hears himself speaking, but he can’t tear his eyes off of the scared young Padawan, seeing himself as nothing more than a scared child again. He’s not an adult. He shouldn’t have to face this war alone.

But he is- _was,_ he reminds himself firmly, and even as he feels himself get stabbed through the chest, watches the boy swing his arm upward and try to fight the Second Sister, all he can repeat to himself is _this is a dream, you’re dreaming, you’ve got to wake up,_ but he doesn’t, he isn’t waking up, he can’t-

“Cal. CAL!” Cal surges upward with a gasp, feeling sweat on his face and finding himself tangled in blankets. It takes a moment for him to think- he’s not dreaming, he’s not dreaming anymore, unless he is, unless the person in front of him is-

“Cal, you’re fine, come back to me,” Cere says patiently, her voice soothing yet her face scared. What happened? What scared her?

As he comes to his senses, he realizes that he did.

“Was I talking in my sleep again?” he mumbles, rubbing his hands over his face as he swings his legs over the bed. That’s embarrassing. He can’t seem to stop doing it, though. A quick series of beeps at his side causes him to look at BD-1, and he mumbles, “Yeah, I’m fine, buddy.”

“Was it another nightmare?” she says, voice soft as the little droid boops, unconvinced.

Cal takes his hands off his face, breathing in deeply before looking at her. “Yeah. Yeah, it was... that.”

“How do you feel?” Cere asked, pulling up a seat. Her expression has morphed from one of fear to one of concern. It was understandable, considering that he couldn’t stop thinking back to that battle on Nur, had constant nightmares, and woke up screaming a lot. Not a great package for mental stability, nor one to make his friends stop worrying. He was hardly affected compared to Cere, and she kept it in, so he didn’t know why he was such a wreck.

“I feel like ass,” he says truthfully, looking her in the eyes.

She nods. “You look like it.”

He snorts. “Yeah... probably.” His sweaty face coupled with his greasy hair and the fact that he had a leg stuck in a blanket; he wouldn’t exactly call himself date night ready.

“What happened?” she prompts gently. Cal tears his eyes away, staring at the ground.

“I... I woke up in my bed, on the _Mantis_. I went to the cockpit, and I realized no one was on the ship, but when I turned around- I turned around and-” his voice cracks and he stops, closing his eyes. Opening them again, he continued. “I turned around and saw Trilla. She- she had her lightsaber wound, on her body, from Vader, but she was alive, and... but Cere, there was something in her eyes. She looked... I don’t know.... sad, maybe? Like that mix of anger and pain and fear.” _That I know all too well,_ he doesn’t continue.

“Did she say anything?” Cere says, voice low. Cal looks up at her, trying to remember.

“She- she was mysterious, as always, but then she said that she was... everything I wanted to forget, I think. Like she was the representation of my...” He inhales deeply. “My trauma. And then you guys- you were floating out in space, dead, and I turned back to face Trilla but I was on Bracca, somehow, and instead of being myself I was Prauf and then I got... killed, and I woke up.”

Cere sits back in her chair. “Sounds like it’s a different one from the ‘getting chased by Darth Vader.’” BD-1 adds a beep of affirmation.

Cal thinks back to his nightmares from the previous days, how every time he went to bed he would see Trilla die, feel himself choke, try and run for his life... and in every new nightmare, something new and horrible happened each time. Cere joining the Inquisitors. Darth Vader ripping apart BD-1. Merrin not saving them and leaving them to drown.

He tries not to think about it. “Why was tonight different? What changed?”

Cere shakes her head. “I don’t know. Maybe something happened in your daily life to change it. All I know is that we have to keep moving forward.” She reaches her hand out tentatively, and when Cal doesn’t flinch, she pats his shoulder. “Just focus on healing. Physically _and_ mentally,” she adds sternly, and when Cal rolls his eyes at her, she smiles. “Greez made breakfast. I would suggest grabbing a bite before it gets cold.” She stands up and makes her way to the doorway, looking back at him for a moment before going to the main area.

Cal flops back on his bed. His dreams are changing. If that means his life is changing, too, then he’s ready for it.

**Author's Note:**

> my first finished fanfic since 2017 (dont tell anyone lol). if you liked it, thank u !!! :) if you didn't tell me what went wrong and what you might like to see (besides romance, i don't do romance lmao)


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